Jeremiah & George Lucas: Part 2

According to The Making of Star Wars by J. W. Rinzler, in earlier scripts George Lucas had introduced an elderly man, a "wizard on the side of the road, whom the hero meets on his journey. In exchange for his teachings, the old man requests payment in the form of food, which recalls [asian filmmaker Akira] Kurosawa's seven samurai who are paid with rice by farmers to protect their village." That character would go on to become Obi-Wan Kenobi, or Old Ben, as Luke Skywalker initially knows him. Might Obi-Wan, the desert hermit, who claims to have once been a Jedi Knight, share important qualities with Jewish prophet Jeremiah? 

Filmmaker George Lucas stands with actor Mark Hamill,
who portrayed the character of Luke Skywalker in "Star Wars."

In "Star Wars," the droids R2-D2 and C-3PO escape capture by Imperial forces, and flee to the desert planet Tatooine. There they meet Luke Skywalker, a young moisture farmer who dreams of being a space pilot and doing something really important and exciting with his life. Unbeknownst to him, R2-D2 is carrying plans for the Death Star, a moon-sized space station, with enough firepower to destroy an entire planet. R2-D2 want to get these plans to the Rebellion, in the hopes that a flaw or weakness can be found, and the Rebellion can use that to destroy the Death Star. And he knows just who can help him: Obi-Wan Kenobi, a former Jedi Knight, who now resides on Tatooine. So after Luke's uncle Owen buys the droids, R2-D2 suggests that he is really the property of Obi-Wan Kenobi, and he's carrying a private message just for him.

The thing is, Luke doesn't know any Obi-Wan Kenobi. He does know someone he calls Old Ben, a strange hermit who lives out by the Dune Sea. Luke refers the matter to his uncle, who dismisses the matter: Ben Kenobi isn't important, he's just a crazy old man. In any case, the message R2-D2 is carrying can't be that important: what really matters is that Luke gets those droids ready to work on the farm, so the family can reap a good harvest this season.

R2-D2 takes matters into his own proverbial hands, and sneaks out of the farm in search of this disparaged old man, in the hopes that he is the retired Jedi Knight. Luke and C-3PO find R2-D2, but are attacked by a local tribe called Sand People, and who should rescue them but old Ben Kenobi. When Luke tells the hermit about the message, Ben admits that he is Obi-Wan, and that he was once a Jedi Knight, an elite group of warrior-priests who selflessly fought for others, and always strived to retain order in the galaxy. Yet when Obi-Wan tells Luke that his father was also a Jedi Knight, Luke disregards the old man's claim. When they listen to the message, and learn the necessity of getting the Death Star plans to the Rebellion, Luke, who dreams of doing something important and exciting, refuses to get involved. Only after he realizes that Imperial soldiers are after the droids, and then rushes home--too late--to find that his aunt and uncle have been killed, does Luke acknowledge the veracity of Obi-Wan's advice, and vow to accompany him on his journey. 

When Chancelor Palpatine destroyed the Jedi Knights, and transformed the Galactic Republic into an Empire, Obi-Wan fled to the remote planet Tatooine, where he was forced to live as a hermit and change his name. Now, when events warrant his return, and the Emperor's new space station threatens to destroy any planet whose citizens show the slightest disloyalty, he realizes the time has come for his return. But he needs help, a companion to help him get R2-D2's plans to the Rebellion. He also needs a disciple, whom he can teach to become the first of a new group of Jedi Knights. So Obi-Wan sheds the mantle of secrecy that has protected him for decades, takes Luke into his confidence, and asks Luke to accompany him on this journey. Perhaps Luke might also consider becoming his disciple, and help him restart the Jedi order. And how does Luke--this young man who dreams of adventure, and doing something important with his life--respond to the truths Obi-Wan reveals, and this great offer to perform the ultimate good for the citizens of the galaxy? 

Does Obi-Wan's situation remind you of Jeremiah, or for that matter, the plight of any of the Jewish prophets? Or do I need to remind you how Han Solo, the independent space trader whom Obi-Wan and Luke meet later in their journey, continually disparages Obi-Wan, and tries to get Luke to see how crazy and unrealistic the old man is?

Dragon Dave

Alex Wheeler on Believing In Yourself

Luke Skywalker pilots his father's Pod-racer
across the sand dunes of Tatooine
in the Lego-inspired TV series The Yoda Chronicles

In Target, the first novel in his Star Wars Rebel Force series, Alex Wheeler reminds us of one crucial fact: it takes money to fund an army. As the bulk of their money was lost with the destruction of Alderaan, Han Solo and Chewbacca transport Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia, and their droids C-3PO and R2-D2 to the planet Muunilinst, the former home of the InterGalactic Banking Clan. There, they hope to contact Mak Luunim, with whom the Rebel Alliance has entrusted a portion of their finances.  

As the Millennium Falcon emerges from hyperspace, a TIE Fighter attacks them before they can land on the planet. Another ship, a Preybird, comes to their aid, but it suffers damage while Han and his new ally drive away the TIE Fighter. The Preybird crashes on Muunilinst's Moon, and Han follows as quickly as he can. Still, it takes a while to locate the ruined ship, and longer still to find the injured pilot, who has wandered away from the wreckage. 

Han may be suspicious of the way the TIE Fighter found them, and how quickly the Preybird came to their aid, but he administers medical treatment, and agrees to transport the pilot, Tobin Elad, to Muunilinst. He even agrees to let Tobin Elad accompany them as they try to locate Mak Luunim. Unfortunately, when they reach the banker's lavish apartment, a servant tells them that his master has departed this mortal realm. Then stormtroopers burst into the apartment, and Tobin Elad proves his worth, killing a stormtrooper who had sighted Han with his rifle, and then assisting the others with their escape.

In a cantina, they learn that the Rebellion was unwise to invest their funds with Mak Luunim. The former banker owed everyone money, including the Empire. The bartender points them toward Nal Kuunim, a moneylender who reportedly plundered Mak Luunim's apartment after his death. Han and the others wonder: if this Nal Kuunim has the Rebellion's funds, or knows where they are located, what enticement can they offer to convince him to hand them over?

They locate a local named Grunta, who takes them to meet the moneylender. But then they are trapped by stormtroopers. In the ensuing firefight, Grunta is killed, and Han and the others are stripped of their weapons and imprisoned. When a stormtrooper visits their cell to bring them water, Luke tries the Jedi Mind Control that Obi-Wan Kenobi, his former mentor, used so proficiently. 

"You don't want to hold us prisoner any more." Luke stared intensely at the guard. "You want to let us go."

There was a long pause.

"No I don't," the stormtrooper said. The door shut behind them, and darkness closed in again. 

So, maybe Luke has a ways to go before he masters the Force.

Later, Nal Kuunim, who employed the stormtroopers, visits their cell. They've heard him described as a rich, greedy man, but the moneylender describes himself as a man of honor. He tells them he will give them the Rebellion's funds if they replace what they took from him. And what exactly did they take from him? Why Grunta of course, his servant and Pod-race pilot. Nal Kuunim likes to bet on Pod-races, and he had expected to win big on the next one. If a member of their party will pilot his craft, and win the race, Nal Kuunim will return the Rebellion's funds.

It seems an unlikely result, as most Humans lack the reflexes necessary to handle such powerful crafts. But Luke volunteers before the others can stop them. He doesn't know that his father Anakin once participated in Pod-races on Tatooine. (He doesn't really know anything about his father at this point). He just knows that the Rebellion needs that money. Besides, he destroyed the Death Star, a feat few others believed was impossible. So despite his lack of experience, he's willing to risk his life for the Rebellion again. Who knows? Maybe he'll be able to handle the powerful vehicle and win the race! 

One thing you have to say about Luke: he never gives up. He always believes in himself, despite the odds stacked against him. Sure, he lacks expert training in a whole host of areas, but at least he's always willing to tackle new challenges. In our world, it's easy to be cynical, and not believe in anyone or anything. Being like Luke is difficult, especially when trying so many things means you will frequently fail. But in this aspect of my life, I want to be like Luke: an eternal optimist, always willing to try new things. Every day. Including today.

How about you?

Dragon Dave 

Alex Wheeler on Looking Out For Your Friends

Luke Skywalker takes on a dragon
in the Lego-inspired TV series "The Yoda Chronicles."

In Target, the first novel in Alex Wheeler's Star Wars Rebel Force series, the Rebellion has just struck a crucial blow against the Empire. They not only defended their base on Yavin IV against the Death Star, but also destroyed the moon-sized space station in the process. So Emperor Palpatine issues an executive order: find the fighter pilot whose proton torpedo caused the chain reaction that destroyed the space station. 

While the Rebellion's spy network learn that Imperial assassins are following up leads, the leadership on Yavin IV institute new security procedures to protect what everyone on the jungle moon knows: that Luke Skywalker, the young moisture farmer from Tatooine, fired the final shot. But the leadership faces a greater challenge. Princess Leia's father, Senator Bail Organa, was covertly assisting the Rebellion in many ways, one of which was safeguarding their funds. When the Death Star destroyed his home planet of Alderaan, the bulk of the Rebellion's funds were also destroyed. To protect Luke, and retrieve some money held in banks elsewhere, Rebel leaders pay Han Solo to transport Luke and Leia to the planet Muunilinst, the former home of the InterGalactic Banking Clan.

When the Millennium Falcon exits hyperspace, a TIE fighter attacks them before they can land on Muunilinst. They are assisted by a pilot in a Preybird, but his ship is damaged while driving off the TIE fighter, and he crashes on Muunilinst's moon. Han lands the Falcon to assist him, but it takes a while to track down the bleeding pilot. During their hunt, they hear a rumbling which Luke assumes is a moonquake. Then a great beast named a reek emerged from the brush. It rises three times as tall as the Humans on its four tree-trunk legs. Three razor-sharp, spear-like horns sprout from its head. Bellowing, the beast charges on our heroes.

Obi-wan Kenobi used the Force to offer Luke a few words of wisdom after his died, but the late Jedi Knight only gave Luke one lightsaber training session before Darth Vader ended his life. Even with the aid of the Force, Luke has had trouble mastering his new sword. He's failed to protect himself in training sessions orchestrated by his droid R2-D2 on Yavin IV, and knows he's got a lot to learn before he achieves proficiency with the weapon. Still, when the reek charges, Luke activates his lightsaber, and runs forward to protect his friends. 

Han Solo is one of the most down-to-earth characters in Star Wars. He knows who he is, and is comfortable with his strengths and weaknesses. Han's not sure he believes in the Force, and even if he did, he knows he can't wield it. He worries that his idealistic young friend Luke, lacking proper training with the plasma-sword, is a danger to himself and others. So even before Luke whips out his lightsaber and charges the reek, Han's already lining up a shot with his blaster. When Luke trips over a rock, Han fires, and prevents the reek from goring his friend. 

Even though he's itching to leave the Rebellion after this job, and pay off Jabba the Hutt so he can resume his former easygoing, independent life, Han's still looking out for his friend. His loyalty to his new friends will ultimately cost him, but he's beginning to recognize that there are more important things than simply getting by. The Rebellion may have awarded him a medal for helping Luke destroy the Death Star, but he's earning his status as a hero in small, unremarkable actions such as this. Han Solo's like all of us, when we perform all those little, unremarkable acts designed to help and protect our friends and loved ones, even when they don't recognize our attentiveness, or thank us for protecting them.

Heroes, all.

Dragon Dave

R2-D2's Car

Weekend Extra

Recently, my wife and I saw our old friend R2-D2.  He signaled us with his mixture of clicks, hoots, and bleeps, and it was great to chat with him for awhile.  I gather Luke Skywalker's not using his X-Wing much these days, as he's busy teaching at the Jedi Academy on Yavin IV, so R2-D2 opted to tour San Diego for awhile.

You know, I don't ordinarily appreciate back seat drivers, but I'd make an exception for R2-D2.

Dragon Dave

Related Dragon Cache entries
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Free Comic Book Madness

When my wife first told me that last Saturday was Free Comic Book Day, I have to admit, I was dubious.  It sounded like one of those things, like Get a Free Kiss from Stan Lee Day, that at first you think sounds pretty terrific, but then…uh, perhaps that wasn’t the best example.  Anyway, I figured the shops would stack up a few old comics, and the first few customers through the door would snatch them up.  But my wife, it seems, is the true believer in this household.  She roused me in the morning with the smell of frying bacon, and by the time I made it up for breakfast, she’d cooked an omelet too.  She even served up her homemade jelly-filled donuts to give us strength for the day ahead.

"Iiiiiiiiittttttttt'ssssssss bacon!"

"Mmm, Jelly Donuts!"

Our comic book shop is located in an industrial park, far away from the busy street, and usually we just drive up to it and park.  But on Saturday, we had to hunt for a space as soon as we turned off the street, and joined the people walking at least the length of a city block to get there.  Man, was I ever glad my wife had fed me a nourishing breakfast!

Outside the store, there were gazebos galore, and under them everything a person could want to celebrate Free Comic Book Day properly.  People sold those trade paperback comic book compilations, and manga books, and toys both old and new.  Others spun pizza dough with their hands before baking them in portable ovens, or served up such delicacies as hot dogs and chili fries.  Adults had dressed up in the uniforms of their favorite superheroes, and children got their faces painted at one of the booths.  My wife particularly admired a woman’s R2-D2 sundress.  And it wasn’t just the readers joining in for the fun: they even had industry professionals there.  If you wanted, you could even buy a membership to an upcoming comic book convention. 

Amid so much activity, the crowd hadn’t forgotten what the real purpose of the event was.  They swarmed around the tables of free sample issues of new titles from various publishers, as well as a table where older comic books awaited them.  We picked up a few that caught our eye, and then joined the line to get into the store.

A line into the store?  What was with that?  Why couldn’t we just walk in like usual?

By the time we reached the door, another free comic had made its way into our bag, thanks to a comic book writer, who, dressed up in a beige Victorian suit and matching top hat, practically thrust it into my hands.  (I decided not to suggest that he upgrade his monocle for a contact lens.  Hey, whatever helps him write his stories best, right?)  A woman inside the door taped our bag shut, and then we waded through the crowded rooms into the back, where all the boxes of old comic books were half-price.

Half-price!

"Can you say, 'swag?'"

Nearly-swagged.

An hour later, we returned to our car, our bags bulging with comic books both free and purchased.  (Should I say purchased, when, price-wise, they nearly gave those away too?)  The latter included some missing issues “Conan The Barbarian” and “Kull The Destroyer” that I needed for my collections.  The shop owner even gave us a little of the history of the Hulk-verse, concerning the origins of She-Hulk, Red Hulk, and Red She-Hulk.  Oh, so much comic book lore still to learn, to read, and to enjoy!  It could only have happened on Free Comic Book Day, which all in all, I must say, is an infinitely better idea than Get a Free Kiss from Stan Lee Day.

I’m shaking my head right now.  I mean…uh, how do I come up with ideas like that?  Stan Lee, I love you, man, but really!  I suppose, if I had to, I’d kiss She-Hulk.  But only if she was in a good mood.

Dragon Dave

Inspired By C-3PO

The other day, I went out to a nearby restaurant for lunch.  I perused the dining area, looking for a table away from others, particularly any parties who might be noisy.  But I also needed good lighting, as I planned on revising a chapter of my novel while I ate.  I finally settled on a table with good overhead lighting, set down my food, and dug out my notebook. 

One table away sat a young man and his two daughters, enjoying their pasta and drinks.  They chatted easily, and for the most part, quietly.  When their voices threatened to rise, he would gently hush them, and then remind them that they were in a restaurant, and must keep their voices down.  At one point he looked over at me and said, “I’m sorry if we’re a little noisy today.”

Going out to a restaurant can break the routine, and get me working again when I might otherwise get distracted with other tasks, or decide that I simply need a break.  But this tactic will backfire if the restaurant is noisy, or if my mind decides to follow a nearby conversation instead of concentrating on my prose.  Most annoying of all is parents who let their children yell or scream, and expect others to tolerate such unnecessary outbursts.  Often, these parents seem so professional and refined.  They dress well, wear convention attire, and act in all other ways like respectable members of society.  Yet they think nothing of invading the airspace (and therefore the thoughts and concentration) of others.

With his shaved head, tattoos, and numerous earrings, this young man hardly projected an image of refinement.  But due to his efforts, his girls’ voices had not disturbed my concentration.  I told him not to worry, and observed that his girls seemed to be enjoying themselves.  We chatted for a few minutes, and he explained that this was one of their favorite places to eat.  Then I returned my attention to my work, and he to his girls.

When his girls had finished eating, he loaded them into his double stroller, and in quiet, lilting tones reminded them of the errands ahead.  As he left the dining area, it struck me how, while others might not judge him respectable, he had been respectful and considerate of others.  I, for one, was grateful to him for that.

While one’s eye is automatically drawn to the shiny, golden robot C-3PO in “Star Wars,” one quickly learns how bossy and dismissive he is of his friend R2-D2.  Worse, he seems to worry all the time, and foresees only the worst eventuality of any particular event.  It would be easy to dismiss his role in the film as comic relief, but C-3PO emerges as a loyal friend at the end of the film.  After R2-D2 suffers significant injury, C-3PO pleads with the droid technicians, “Sir, if any of my circuits or gears will help, I’ll gladly donate them!”  This, from one who had earlier abandoned his friend in the desert, and later, after they had reunited, told him, “No, I don’t like you either.”

People are always more than they appear.  Sometimes, if we give them a chance, they will surprise us.   In the aftermath of the recent election, many worry about those who will soon take office, and how they will be affected not only by new administrations, but also by the implementation of the propositions that won.  I decided to write this post because I want to remember this young man, whom many might have dismissed because of his appearance.  Instead of declaring my unwillingness to follow our new leaders, or deciding to frustrate their efforts and work to overturn any laws they enact, I also want to remember C-3PO’s example.  He may not be the wisest, or the most respectable person in the Star Wars universe, but his words, at least in that one moment, inspire me. 

“Sir, if any of my circuits or gears will help, I’ll gladly donate them.”

Dragon Dave

My Robot Advisors

My phone has been ringing off the hook these past few weeks.  When I answered, I heard a prerecorded endorsement for a political candidate.  These politicians and citizens, who have never met me, felt sure that I shared their concerns about a particular issue.  Some of them referred to me by name, as if I was a long-time friend.  While such messages are known as robocalls, I know they're not really made by robots.  Instead, they came from a machine called an autodialer, which uses complex algorithms to impersonate people and personalize messages. 

Yet the name is evocative, and I could not help but wonder: how might my favorite robots vote, if we allowed them to?  Or better yet, how might they advise me in navigating the confusing promises and propositions?

Even if I could understand R2-D2’s noises, I’m not sure how interested he’d be in elections.  He seems more task-oriented.  Give him a problem, and R2-D2 will find a way to tackle it.  This makes him great in a crisis, but when it comes to complex decision-making as to what’s best for society, I have a feeling he’d be less help.  Unfortunately, his friend C-3PO wouldn’t be a great help either.  He’d be too worried about the worst-case scenario of any proposal.  I think he’d also be too busy calculating the odds against any particular candidate keeping his or her promises to assess their relative merit.  While I could use C-3PO as a sounding board to confirm my own anxieties, I’m not sure he could help me vote for a person or issue. 

On the other hand, WALL-E is a true innocent.  As such, he would grasp the hope associated with every issue and politician, and argue that I should vote for those who promise the most positive change.  Seeing the best in everyone and everything, I’m sure he would urge me to endorse a host of radical agendas each election cycle.  While I love him, I know that I cannot ignore my suspicions regarding the potential dangers surrounding each candidate or issue.  Further muddying the waters is the knowledge that too much change isn’t a good thing.  Instead of delivering a promised utopia, too many grand ideas, schemes and revolutionary changes to how we organize and run our society might actually bog down our political, social, and financial systems, making it impossible to get anything (whether it be good, better, or worse) accomplished.

So, in this scenario, I suppose I would have to turn to K-9.  Assuming that Doctor Who or Sarah Jane doesn’t need him, I think he could be of great help.  His personality seems ideally suited to analyze the propositions and the candidates.  With his ability to assess strengths and weaknesses of proposals, and the records, personalities, and associations of candidates, K-9 could advise me how best to vote, given my concerns about what I’d like to see occurring in my society.  Yes, give me K-9 on voting day: I cannot imagine a better advisor.

The sad thing is that, regardless of how I vote, who comes into power, and what proposals become law, the result always seems to a constant slew of half-measures.  At best, these changes allow our society to continue functioning.  But usually, they leave us no better off, and often they affect us so adversely that I find myself closing my eyes, clutching my head, and wishing I hadn’t voted in the way I did.  It is then that one robot's voice rises above the rest.  “Danger, Will Robinson!” cries the General Utility Non-Theorizing Environmental Control Robot B9 (usually referred to The Robot in “Lost in Space”).  “Danger!  Danger!”

Regardless of whom I chose or how I vote, every day the evolving political process prompts B9 to repeat his warnings.  Sometimes I wish Dr. Zachary Smith would reprogram B9 to only alert me to the most pressing dangers.  But then, I don’t need K-9 to warn me against trusting Dr. Smith.

Dragon Dave

I Want My Own R2-D2

R2-D2 & me.

The first people we meet in the original “Star Wars” film aren’t people per se.  They’re not humans, or members of the many sentient alien species George Lucas created.  Instead, they’re artificial life forms, far more intelligent than most fictional robots, but not androids that look, act, and speak like humans.  They’re called droids, and the first of their kind we meet are C-3PO and R2-D2.

C-3PO and R2-D2 may not share the limelight like Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia, or Han Solo, but in many ways they are just as important.  Princess Leia hides the plans for the Death Star inside R2-D2 at the beginning of the film, and the rebellion (and Luke) only succeed in destroying the Death Star because the human characters get R2-D2 to the rebel base.  R2-D2 helps the primary characters in other ways.  He leads Luke to Obi-Wan, reveals that Princess Leia is being held captive on the Death Star, frees them (and Chewbacca) from the trash compactor, and serves as Luke’s co-pilot during the assault on the Death Star.  Were it not for the droids, and especially R2-D2, George Lucas would have needed to other ways to move the plot along, and enable his human characters.

Something's gone wrong with my R2 unit!

The droids also have lively personalities, which kept us entertained during the movie.  Were it not for C-3PO’s constant complaints about why the others are not following the seemingly safe and convenient path of submission and surrender, the actions of R2-D2 and the humans might seem less heroic.  The droids’ easy-going banter charms viewers, even if we cannot understand the beeps, chirps, and other sounds that constitute R2-D2’s dialogue.  In these ways, the droids not only support their human masters, but also draw us into the movie.  They lighten scenes with humor, and highlight aspects of life in Lucas’ universe that we might otherwise not see.  I suspect that part of older audience members’ reluctance to accept the prequels stems from Lucas’ use of humans and other characters (such as Jar Jar Binks) in roles that R2-D2 and C-3PO performed, in a superior way, in the original trilogy. 

It was a pleasure to meet up with R2-D2, and his astromech relatives, at Stan Lee’s Comikaze.  I enjoyed talking with members of the R2-D2 Builders Club.  These people exchange plans and information, build portions of the droids themselves, and help fellow members make or purchase items beyond the individual’s capability.  Members can build other astromech droids aside from R2-D2, or even the mouse droids that skitter along the corridors of the Death Star and the Imperial Star Destroyers.

You've got a lot of carbon scoring here.

The R2-D2 Builder’s Club not only enables its members to build their own droid, but gives them the satisfaction from having done so.  Members not only enjoy the camaraderie that comes with like-minded people pursuing similar goals, but they bring happiness to others outside the club.  Faces light up when R2-D2 rolls by.  Children of all ages want to stop and get their picture taken with him.

Unfortunately, R2-D2 doesn’t do autographs.

Somehow, it seems as if I never have enough time to do those I things I most care about, let alone complete all the tasks that life presents me with.  I have trouble finding the time to pursue my existing hobbies, let alone build, maintain, and show off a droid.  Yet every time I see him in the movies, or in person, or even think about the idea of…oh!  It's too much!

I want to build my very own R2-D2!

Dragon Dave

Related Internet Links

R2-D2 in Adrilankha

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R2-D2 in Adrilankha

I’m nobody.  I run a small restaurant in the Easterners’ section.  Okay, maybe nothing as grand as a restaurant, but I’ve got plans, you know?  Anyway, a strange thing happened to me yesterday.  See—

Yeah, fine, your wine’s a little sweet for my taste, but go on, pour me another.

Okay, here it is.  A man and woman walked in and ordered klava.  They chose a table in the back.  I plunked down two glasses, filled them with piping-hot klava (my special blend), and left them to enjoy the privacy they so obviously sought.  

I was working on the dinner menu when a strange contraption rolled in through the front door.  It looked like a large metal can on wheels.  Its dome-like top spun around.  A round light blinked at me, and this…thing… produced a series of whistles, clicks, beeps, and what resembled a series of musical notes played by a beginning instrumentalist.  Then the noisy container rolled into the darkness, heading for the couple enjoying their privacy and klava.

Okay, so I save money on candles in the afternoon.  You want to hear this or not?

Anyway, I was intrigued, so I followed after this…thing.  But I froze when it projected an image of a man about the height of my forearm.  Although I could see through him, and so I knew he wasn’t real, he still looked so lifelike, standing there on the table before the two glasses of klava.  Clutching a notebook and a pen in his hands, this tiny apparition said,

 “Steven Brust, years ago you served me purely as entertainment.

Now I beg you to aid me in my struggles against Writer’s Block.

This is my most desperate hour.

Help me, Steven Brust: you’re my only hope!”

Then the image of the man dissolved, the metal contraption turned around, and I stepped aside as it rolled past me, still emitting those curious whistles, beeps, clicks, and notes from a poorly tuned instrument.  From outside, I heard someone say, “There you are!  I’ve been looking all over for you.  You delivered a message?  What message were you carrying around in your blasted innards this time?”  When I turned back to my guests, I saw the man’s nose wrinkle as he set down his glass.  I hurried back to the bar, brought the couple two new glasses, and poured them some more klava.

No, I didn’t.  I could tell the man was dangerous.  I didn’t think it prudent to delve too deeply into his affairs.

So you tell me, what manner of sorcery moved that device?  And what should I make of the man’s plea?  No, I haven’t had too much of your overly sweet wine!  Really?  You honestly think I'd make up such a story?

I’ll agree with you there, friend.  It all seems a bit much to me, too.

R2-D2: Star Pilot extraordinaire

To book passage to Adrilankha, contact Star Tours.  (It’s not an official destination, but check with R2-D2.  Maybe he can arrange something).

For a review of this restaurant (or, as Vlad so generously describes it, a “klava hole”), read Chapter 5 of Teckla by Steven Brust.

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A French Psychiatrist’s diagnosis of Darth Vader

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More on Klava
An R2-D2 Coffee Machine?